


Sit down, lose your breath

by liripip



Series: Room for three [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cock Warming, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Sub Gabe, blowjobs under a desk, is a BRAT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 12:18:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11989641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liripip/pseuds/liripip
Summary: Jack isn’t even looking at him.Jack is looking at his fucking emails.What the hell.Gabriel did not sign up for this.Fill for a kink meme prompt: Bratty sub Gabe is under a lot of pressure as the Commander of Blackwatch, so to try to help alleviate some of his stress, Jack lets Gabe warm his cock while he works. Gabe is unable to slip into the right headspace and becomes frustrated, deciding to blow Jack instead. Bonus for Jack ignoring him and Gabe getting desperate for attention.





	Sit down, lose your breath

**Author's Note:**

> It turns out the phrase 'bratty sub Gabe' has the power to summon me from the void. Original post: https://reaper76-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/537.html?thread=13081#cmt13081

Gabriel’s head pounds as he slaps his hand on the biometric scanner outside Jack’s office door. The cheery little ‘blip!’ it makes sliding open only serves to irritate him further. 

“What’s-... Gabe.” Jack looks up from his desk, eyebrows coming together in that look of vague sympathy he adopts when he’s trying to be supportive. “How’s McCree?”

“He’ll be fine,” Gabriel sighs, making for the couch in the corner and dropping onto it like a pile of rocks. “Medical says he’ll make a full recovery, not that he deserves it.” He hides his face in his hands and groans, fingers pulling his beanie down so low it almost covers his eyes. “I swear to god, I don’t get that kid. He grew up in fucking Deadlock, how’d he become so stupidly idealistic?”

“I can’t imagine,” says Jack, a small smile twitching on his lips. Gabriel glares. “I’m glad he’s doing well. The hostages?”

“Being debriefed. Still in shock, most of them.” 

“And Iceland?” 

Gabriel groans and flops back on the couch.

“I just spent seventeen hours in the ops room, do not fucking talk to me about Iceland.”

“I told you to let me handle Iceland.” Jack says, rearranging the papers on his desk. Who the hell uses paper? “Delicate diplomatic touch and all that.”

“Fuck Iceland. Let them blow themselves up, see if I care.” 

“You don’t mean that.” Jack finally turns to look at him properly. “When did you last sleep?”

“Pah. I don’t need sleep, I’m Gabriel-fucking-Reyes.” Gabriel-fucking-Reyes rubs his eyes. He doesn’t need sleep. After all the coffee he’s had, sleep is a theoretical possibility at best.

Jack does not look convinced. 

“Uhu,” he says, turning back to his work. “So what do you need? Much as I enjoy these visits of yours, I was in the middle of something.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. I just wrapped up a major op, you can take a break from kissing UN ass to pay some attention to me.” 

Jack looks between his paperwork and his lover. He bites his lip with something like guilt.

“This is pretty urgent, Gabe.” 

Gabriel glares, pushing the beanie back in place. 

“My need to get bent over your desk is pretty urgent, too.”

“Oh,” Jack says, swallowing. He considers for a second. “Come over here.” He pushes his chair back from the desk and pats his lap. Gabriel raises a sceptical eyebrow but saunters over, sitting down across Jack’s legs upon further urging. 

Jack palms his ass through his pants, squeezing. Gabriel squirms a little, pushing back into the grip. 

“The thing is,” Jack says, his hand moving forward to rest over Gabriel’s crotch. If it wasn’t really engaged in the proceedings before, it’s certainly starting to perk up now. “As much as I’d like to, I really can’t do that right now.” His grip tightens. It’s not painful, not yet. “So I have an alternate proposition.” 

Gabriel raises an eyebrow. They’ve played this game before: Learning when to shut up was the first lesson. Jack slides his beanie off and drops it on the desk, and his eyes narrow in challenge. 

“Get on the floor.”

Gabriel does, slipping down between Jack’s legs. He takes the liberty to nose his way up between his thighs, opening his mouth over Jack’s clothed dick. His eyes seeks Jack’s. He’s really not asking for much, here. 

Jack just smirks at him. Then he’s crowding Gabriel back in under the desk, carefully maneuvering his chair in until Gabriel is stuck, his neck flush against the edge of the desk and his chin resting on the padded leather of Jack’s chair. He swallows. He’s vulnerable like this. He likes it. 

Jack unzips his fly and pulls his cock out. It’s soft, musky smelling. He hasn’t showered today. Gabriel opens his mouth in anticipation. Jack grins a little and scoots forward, guiding his cock between Gabriel’s lips, scratching his nails gently over his buzzed scalp as he takes it fully into his mouth. He can’t really move like this, just suckle, run his tongue along the underside in search of a reaction. 

There isn’t one. 

Jack isn’t even looking at him. 

Jack is looking at his fucking emails. 

What the hell. 

Gabriel did not sign up for this. 

Pressed for other options, he sucks as hard as he can. It’s not very hard. He’s not in a good position to pull back for added force. Jack hums a little, and his cock thickens, but he’s still not looking. Gabriel swirls his tongue. Jack shuffles his papers and absently pats his head. 

“Stop that,” he says, shifting minutely closer, pinning Gabriel on his half-hard cock. “Just stay still. Keep my dick nice and warm.” His thumb rubs over the corner of Gabriel’s open mouth, smearing wetness onto his cheek, and then his hands are back on his desk, spreading the holographic displays out in front of him. 

And Gabriel stays still, breathing through his nose as Jack’s cock slowly stiffens in his mouth. It lengthens as it does, making breathing more difficult. Gabriel closes his eyes, tries to relax, tries to obey, but Jack’s cock is still swelling and he has nowhere to pull back to. He’s on the verge of tapping out when Jack shifts back in his chair, giving him a precious inch of breathing space. Gabriel sags, endorphins flowing through his blood, his hands clenched in the fabric of his hoodie. He slips forward just a little, taking as much of Jack’s cock as he can breathe around into his mouth, holding as still as he can. 

It’s strange, the things you notice when you are still. He must have had Jack’s dick in his mouth a thousand times, more, but he’s never noticed these fine hairs growing along the underside of the shaft. He moves his tongue. Can’t feel them. Still. There they are, like barely perceptible spines. When he holds his breath he can feel Jack’s pulse throbbing against his tongue, slow and steady. He’s hard, but he’s not particularly aroused, not if the way he’s flipping through documents and chewing on his stylus is any indication. 

Gabriel shifts, trying to lessen the pressure on his own cock. Should have unzipped before he let Jack trap him under a table, really, but he wasn’t anticipating to have a cock shoved down his throat and then just. Be left there? At the very least, Jack could properly fuck his throat, all stuck in place and accessible as he is here. 

The thought makes his own cock throb, and his struggle to slip out of his pants intensifies. Finally free, he takes himself in hand and strokes, squeezing around the base as he presses forward and takes Jack to the hilt. 

It should get a reaction. He has a faceful of pubes, he’s drooling, he can’t breathe, and Jack isn’t even acknowledging the effort. He pushes deeper, stretches his tongue out to lick at Jack’s balls, takes him deeper than he’s possibly ever done before. It should feel amazing. 

And Jack? 

Jack answers the fucking phone. 

Gabriel gorges himself on cock, powered by spite, holding until his throat is spasming and his lungs are burning for air. 

Nothing. 

Jack just keeps discussing satellite launch plans as if Gabriel wasn’t developing tunnel vision choking on his dick. 

Defeated, Gabriel pulls back to catch his breath. He may have lost the battle, but he will win this war. He suckles, biding his time, until Jack finally hangs up.

Now? 

But Jack just ignores him, going back to his paperwork. 

Gabriel hums angrily. It’s the only thing he can do with his mouth as stuffed as it is. And, wonder upon wonder, Jack actually acknowledges him. He does this by putting a hand on his head, scooting his chair back, and pressing Gabriel down fully under the desk. 

Then he activates the intercom and asks for coffee. Which, the utter bastard -- Jack has never in his life ordered coffee over the intercom before. He’ll take it if one of his secretaries offer, but he’ll make sure to return the favor. It’s a point of personal pride, that no matter how important the world tells Jack Morrison that he is, he will damn well fetch his coffee himself. 

How quickly man abandons his principles, Gabriel reflects. Apparently Jack’s price was a really spectacular blowjob that he’s for some reason refusing to enjoy. He makes a point of putting his teeth against the shaft as the young agent currently acting as Jack’s aide enters the room, but he never applies more than token pressure. He is, hopeless optimist that he is, still hoping to get something out of this besides a sore jaw and blue balls.

Well, the latter he can deal with. He has slightly more freedom of movement now, his neck free from the vice inbetween Jack’s chair and desk. Pushing his pants and underwear down his thighs is easy enough. Might as well, he really doesn’t have much dignity left to lose in this situation. 

Jack keeps ignoring him. Gabriel gives up and focuses on himself, gently rolling his balls in his hand, his other hand stealing some of the thick, slick spit coating Jack’s cock to rub small circles over his asshole. Fuck Jack. Fuck what Jack likes. Gabriel is getting off today, and if Jack doesn’t want to join him? After this bullshit he has no qualms about using Jack as a prop for his own gratification. If he doesn’t like it he can always roll the fuck away. 

So Gabriel will suck his dick, because Gabriel really fucking likes dick, but this is no longer one of those sweet considerate relationship blowjobs. This is a selfish what’s-your-name-again nightclub bathroom blowjob, and Gabriel hasn’t been on either side of one of those in twenty years. He spits on his fingers, rubs the wetness into his ass, and pumps his dick in his fist. Then he slides his mouth back onto Jack’s cock, fucking his mouth onto it, pushing his fingertips into his ass so he can imagine being spit roasted. 

It’s a favorite fantasy, one he’s often returned to over the years. When he’s already as worked up as he is right now, it’s devastatingly effective. Almost at the crest already, he pushes forward onto Jack’s cock, taking him deep. Gratifyingly, he hears Jack make a choked sound, his thighs tensing. And then Gabriel is coming, moaning with Jack’s cock still deep in his throat. He aims for his foot. Serves the bastard right. 

Spent, he tips backwards, leaning against the modesty panel protecting him from view should anyone walk in. He did manage to hit Jack pretty well, fat drops of thick whitish fluid painted across his foot and ankle. 

Jack clears his throat noisily and points to his stained boot. 

“I assume you mean to clean this up?” 

Gabriel shrugs a shoulder. 

“Nah,” he decides. There’s a bead of slow-flowing come gathering at the tip of his cock. He swipes it up with his thumb and brings it to his mouth. 

“Gabriel.” 

“What, you have a bathroom right there, wash it off.”

Jack pushes his chair back at that and leans in to look at him. Gabriel flips him off for good measure, but he takes Jack’s hand when it’s extended to him and lets himself be pulled out to kneel on the floor in front of Jack’s chair. 

“Too much?”

Gabriel leans back, the back of his neck touching the edge of the desk. He leans into it, displaying himself. 

“Not enough.” He nods at Jack’s crotch, where his dick is still sticking red and wet out of his otherwise pristine uniform. “You have any plans for that peashooter?” 

“I really want to shoot it all over you, but you didn’t bring a change of clothes and I don’t want to try sneaking you out of here covered in spunk.” He gets to his feet, fingertips stroking his shaft. “Stay there.”

He steps closer, feet on either side of Gabriel’s hips, and then he’s fixed in place again, head tilted back over the edge of the desk as Jack slips his cock into his waiting mouth. 

Jack is gentle, but the angle has him all but helpless as his mouth is fucked. It’s intoxicating. 

“Shhh,” Jack says, holding him in place. “Breathe through your nose. There you go. Deep breath.” Then he’s sliding deep, and Gabriel’s fingers clench tight over Jack’s thighs. He closes his eyes and lets his mouth be used. Jack pulls out a fraction of an inch, in again, tiny careful thrusts against the back of his throat until Gabriel can’t take any more and pushes at his legs. He moans as Jack pulls back, feeling utterly wrecked. “Keep your mouth open.” 

Jack wraps his fingers around his cock, working with firm determined strokes towards his climax. Gabriel can only stare, transfixed, until Jack comes with a low groan, spilling into Gabriel’s open mouth. 

Gabriel blinks for a moment before letting himself slide down against the drawers making up the sides of Jack’s desk. He swallows, feeling dazed. 

Jack laughs at him, looking insufferably smug as he tucks himself back in. Gabriel wipes his mouth and pulls his pants back up. 

“Well,” Jack says, offering him a hand up. “Good talk, as always, Commander Reyes. ” he says, pulling Gabriel in to press their foreheads together for a second before placing a kiss on his lips. “We’re both busy men.You go stop Iceland from sinking itself into the ocean. I’ll keep the politicians off your back.” 

“Okay.”

“And don’t drink any more coffee.”

“You’re not the boss of me, Morrison.”

“Technically, I am?”

“I’m gonna drink the coffee.”

“Fine. Try to get some sleep, at least. I’ll probably crash on the couch.” Jack nods to the corner. “It's big enough for two.” 

Gabriel drops his head, resting it on Jack’s shoulder. 

“I’ll try. When’s the last time you and I slept in a bed together?”

Jack cups his neck. 

“Algeria.” he says, nails scratching softly over the short fuzz of Gabriel’s hair. “It’s less than a month ago. We’ve been through worse.” Gabriel sighs. 

“Doesn’t mean I like it.” he says, grumbling. 

“Me neither.” Then Jack pats his ass with a gentle tap-tap. “Now get to it. World’s not gonna save itself.” 

“Right.” Gabriel steps back with a sardonic grin. “See you when I see you,” he says, turning on his heel. “Have fun signing things.” 

“Can’t wait,” he hears Jack mutter as he exits.


End file.
